Don’t Sink My Battleship
Don’t sink my
battleship.
There are men on
it with families.
The commanding
officer with a voice like a bullhorn.
A shadow box for
his medals.
And down in the
galley, all those potato peelers
sharing dirty
jokes and faded photos.
Don’t sink my
battleship.
The hungry
sharks fishing for
an easy meal.
Legs
The chair has
legs.
The flight has
legs.
The wine has
legs.
The bed has
legs.
The pants have
legs.
The sawhorse has
legs.
The piano has
legs.
The oil rig has
legs.
The trampoline
has legs.
The story has
legs.
The centipede
has legs –
a hundred, you
can
count them.
RYAN QUINN FLANAGAN
RYAN QUINN FLANAGAN is a
Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and
many bears that rifle through his garbage.
His work can be found both in print and online in such places as:
Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Our Poetry Archive, Setu, Literary
Yard, and The Oklahoma Review.
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